Change of Plans
by Ophelia11
Summary: BOOK-VERSE. Why didn't Elrond send Elladan and Elrohir on the Quest? This story is slightly AU, as it places the twins in Rivendell shortly after the Council of Elrond. Reviews will be appreciated.


Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or locations mentioned in this story. They are property of Tolkein's estate, and I assure you that if I were party to that, I would not be sitting in my basement writing fanfiction.  
  
A/N: This is book-verse, but I'm not sure how canonical it is. I've combed the text, and I've never found any reason why Elrond didn't send his sons on the Quest. This is my take on it; it's the most logical thing I could come up with because I think someone as powerful as he is would have had enough riders to go out and find them, no matter where they were off to with the Rangers. So, yeah, if someone out there can give me a flat-out reason from the book why Elrond didn't send the twins, let me know so I can mark this as an AU story.  
  
Reviews will be greatly appreciated. Thanks in advance!  
  
***************  
  
Elrond stood alone watching the rest of the world through the window of his study. Moon beams danced through the canopy of leaves in his courtyard. His children had grown up in that courtyard; Elladan and Elrohir had fenced one another, shot at targets, raced. Arwen had practiced dancing, first with her brothers, then with several hopeful suitors. On those days, the days before all this, he felt truly content for the first time in his life; a sort of tranquility had settled over his heart, and his mind, suddenly at glorious peace, had reveled in the stillness finally belonging to a real family created. He wanted those peaceful days back, the days when he would watch Elrohir would patiently coach his younger sister through the waltz as Elladan and Celebrian swirled in graceful circles around them. As Arwen improved, her brothers would take turns dancing with her, and Elrond would claim Celebrian as a partner. The twins had often shepherded their baby sister away from the courtyard on those nights, and he missed those private moments of freedom most of all.  
  
"My lord?"  
  
The whisper of a voice over the rustling leaves startled Elrond out of his contemplation. The too-serious eyes of his oldest son locked with his, stormy grey, the eyes of a youngster who had seen too much in too short a time. Beside him, his brother struggled to keep identical eyes from fluttering shut under the weight of weeks on the trail and in battle. Blood caked both their tattered tunics. 'And I am to blame for that.'  
  
"Welcome home, my sons."  
  
They bowed slightly; immediately upon returning from a ride with the Rangers, the twins were captains before they were sons. They reported to their lord. Later, after the wounds had been bandaged and the dirt had been wiped away, they could be children, grateful to see their father again.  
  
That night, they knew, they had not come to report. They had come to reply. A messenger had fairly dragged them back to Imladris after giving Elladan a very lengthy letter detailing the events of their foster- brother's meeting with some hobbits in possession of a curious artifact. Though Elrond had used metaphors, the twins knew without a doubt what that artifact was; they knew what this conversation would be.  
  
"You know what I am about to ask of you."  
  
"Yes, my lord," Elladan and Elrohir chorused, their low tenors mixing naturally in the night air.  
  
"What is your answer? Will you guide the Ringbearer in his quest?"  
  
"No, my lord," Elladan said plainly.  
  
Elrond's severe gaze fell on Elrohir, who demurely lowered his eyes and murmured, "As always, my lord, Elladan speaks for both of us."  
  
He had not expected that response; he had been dreading the affirmative answer for days. Though as a father, he was glad that his sons would be home, away from harm, he knew this was not their wont. "May I ask what prompted this decision?" He asked carefully.  
  
"Elladan." Elrohir half-whispered, his eyes darting toward his brother. He had known it would come to this.  
  
"I'll tell him, I'll tell him," the older twin hushed. He raised his voice and his eyes and plodded on. "You know. You know Mother took us aside before she. left. She spoke to us for nearly two hours, but we never told you what she said."  
  
"I remember." The entire day was mercilessly scorched on his immortal memory.  
  
"She told us that. She told us that bad times were coming, that Grandmother told her the old ways were passing away."  
  
Elrond's blood surged- 'Galadriel had no right to tell her such dark tidings when clouds already loomed in her mind'- but for his sons' sake, he tried to maintain a calm exterior.  
  
"Mother told us that when the time came, if the time came, if Imladris came under attack that we were to protect you, no matter what orders we were given. In the event of an attack, we were to escort you to Grandmother immediately, no matter what else happened. Then, just before she left, she told us why."  
  
"She told you." Elrond trailed off. A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach told him he knew what Celebrian had told their sons, but he wanted not to believe it.  
  
"She told us why the Bruinen never floods, and why Imladris and the surrounding areas never have droughts. She told us. what being the High King's heir entailed."  
  
Resignedly, Elrond nodded. His possession of Vilya had always worried Celebrian. She had said he was too compassionate to wield one of the Elven Rings; he would have exposed himself to the Enemy to save one of his people. Naturally, she would have wanted someone to make sure that did not happen after she sailed West. And of course, she would have turned to those she felt she could trust; she would have turned to family. "Does your sister know?"  
  
"No, Father. Mother thought knowing would frighten Arwen; she asked us to see she never found out."  
  
"She asked us not to tell you, either," Elrohir said quietly, without looking up. "She said you would worry about us if you knew. We felt. We felt we owed her that much, but this. this is more important. We cannot be near the One Ring, Father. We must not be."  
  
"I do not believe the two of you are particularly susceptible to the Ring's corruption," Elrond said. Indeed, being twins, his sons had always learned and practiced the importance of sharing power and wealth.  
  
Elladan said, "We discussed it at length. Father, if Sauron controlled us, he would have Vilya. He would find the other Two. The free world could easily fall. We are not willing to risk it."  
  
"Do you know who holds the other Two?" Elrond asked. His son's knowing tone worried him; they could be greater targets than Frodo if they knew.  
  
"Yes, Father," Elrohir said, noticing the hesitant look on his brother's face. "We know everything Mother knew."  
  
At that moment, Elrond felt very much his age. Too much rested on too few beings, and those few relied too heavily upon him. "Very well, then. I agree; you should not risk the Quest." 'Which leaves me in a rather binding fix. Who else is there? Oh, Celebrian, what did you do to us?'  
  
His forehead knit as he unconsciously gave his mind free reign to ponder all the "what-ifs" of their desperate situation. With his sons and Aragorn and Mithrandir leading the expedition, they had some chance, however slim, at success. One conversation centuries ago had robbed Middle Earth of half of this excellent team. And, by some cruel twist of fate, he was the only one trusted to replace them. He would have to send someone else's son into peril and almost certain death.  
  
"Father," Elladan said quietly interrupting his thoughts. "Now that you know we know. We've both wanted to do this for a very long time."  
  
As their father watched confusedly, Elladan and Elrohir knelt and kissed the hems of his flowing robes, showing, for what they knew would probably be the only time, the Ringbearer proper respect. They remained prostrate until Elrond raised them. He kissed Elladan's forehead, then Elrohir's, not heeding the grime. 'I do not know what I did to deserve them. For all their mischief, they are wonderful boys.' "That's enough of that," he chided gently. "Get cleaned up, and get to bed. I have work to do. I can't have the two of you underfoot all evening."  
  
They had been told the same thing countless times during their childhood, so the twins forced smiles for their father's sake.  
  
"Good night, Father," Elladan said, sketching a short bow and leaving the room.  
  
Elrohir started, "Father-"  
  
"I know, Elrohir. I know."  
  
The younger twin knew that his father could not possibly understand everything he wanted to say. How could a person who had never known his father understand the respect and gratitude and unconditional love a son bore for the one who gave him everything? How could someone who had looked up to the High King ever understand that he generated the same sort of sheer awe in the younger generation? And how could someone who hardly ever said three words at a time express such intense emotions?  
  
"Good night."  
  
"I love you, my son."  
  
Thoughtfully, slowly, a playful smile spread across the younger twin's face. "I know, Papa. I know."  
  
"You need to learn respect, child," Elrond called, only half serious, after his son's retreating form. He turned back to the courtyard and braced himself against the powerful onslaught of nostalgia he knew would come.  
  
Before it overwhelmed him, Elrond heard a delighted, feminine- no, girlish- shriek and the definite "umph" of one of his sons having the air knocked out of him. Down in the courtyard, Arwen had appeared in her nightdress, barefoot, and attacked one of the twins as he came out of the building.  
  
Struggling valiantly, Elladan said, "Arwen. Arwen, I can't breathe!"  
  
"Well, then, maybe you should consider coming home every once in awhile so seeing you was not such a monumental occasion, Elladan!"  
  
He laughed at her, truly a rare, welcome sound those days. With a gallant bow, Elladan took Arwen into his arms and led her in a merry waltz around the moonlight courtyard as she laughed.  
  
Maybe he did not have to merely content himself with memories. 


End file.
